Comfort

In my family, I have a countless numbers of cousins (over 500) some are older and some are younger, but I love giving the title of Aunt or Uncle to the cousins that have touched my heart, my Uncle Dusty was one of those very special people. Born Harvey Rhodes in 1918 he became the one and only love of my Aunt Patricia. My Aunt Pat is on my Mother’s side of the family tree, my Grandfather (moms dad) was my Aunt Pat’s Uncle. My Mom and Aunt Pat grew up as “sisters” so it was only natural for my sister, Elizabeth and I to call her “Aunt”. Good lord I hope that made sense.

My Aunt Pat and Uncle Dusty, photo courtesy of family records.

Every summer when my sister and I were growing up our Mom would pack our bags and the car up for the long 7-hour drive from Ventura to Sonora, California. There, on Old Phoenix Lake my Aunt and Uncle had a 5 acre piece of land with a beautiful home, garden, boat dock, geese, ducks, swans, deer, squirrels and freedom. I could be so free up there in that red clay dirt and that tulle lined bank. There was not a summer that went by with out the fishing tournament or the canoe floating book reading parties but the best part to me was the cooking. My Uncle being Italian had many, many recipes but my favorite one was basic and simple pesto pasta. My Aunt Pat was the Chef of the family, she took his directions/recipes and gave every dish her personal touch and love.

1990 Sonora visit and the garden.

Their garden was massive in size it had to be 100 feet long by 20 feet wide with this 12’ tall protective deer fence. Inside the fence grew basil plants as high as your waist 10-20 of those graceful and peppery fragrant plants grew. Next to those were the rows of good sweet summer white corn, on the far right side were the most beautiful rose bushes (over 25), my Uncle planted all of those for my Aunt and they were stunning. Through the middle section was the prize of the garden, the tomatoes: cherry, Roma, beefsteak and some wonderful heirloom variety. The job my sister and I were tasked with after breakfast while we were visiting was to get our garden pails and go harvest the tomatoes. As we were walking out of the house I would swipe the saltshaker and tuck it into my pocket. Through the gate into that garden we would go, we harvested tomatoes until our pails were full and when the heat of the morning finally got to us we would dump one of those tomato filled pails into our outstretched shirts. That empty pail was filled with water from the garden hose, there we would sit down in the middle of the basil plants and secretly eat the tomatoes and watch the garden snakes slither by. The procedure was this; wash the tomato in the water, sprinkle the salt on the tomato, wrap it in a fresh washed basil leaf and repeat about 100 times. Then re-pick some tomatoes and take them into the house. There was something about those fresh picked sun warmed tomatoes, the juicy and bursting sweet like sugar taste and that smell, the unmistakeable woodsy, sweet, fresh tomato scent. I can truly say a fresh picked tomato from the garden is one of my favorite flavors and scents.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, my Aunt would have the big oversized pasta pot on the stove bubbling away with a good handful of salt and long glug (her measurement) of olive oil in it. She would then add the cut angel hair or small egg noodle pasta to the boiling water. While it was cooking away the food processor was brought out and handfuls of freshly picked and washed basil leaves would go into the bowl. Warm toasted pine nuts sat in their bowl along with fresh crushed garlic, grated parmesan cheese, olive oil, salt and pepper. The blades started to spin and in went the ingredients- to this day there was never a recipe card it was all done by memory. The pasta was drained and cooled, then a bit of olive oil added with that a light toss or two with the pasta forks. Then the magic started to happen which always seemed to coincide with a S.F. Giants baseball game being on the radio or TV. Small scoopfuls of that fresh made pesto were added to the cooled pasta and the big wooden pasta forks were used to toss it around. Next, a handful of forks were placed out on the counter, one for each of us. Throughout the day we were allowed to take a taste and add a little of this and a little of that, it was a family made dish. My addition was always more olive oil, my sister was more cheese, and my Uncle was salt and more pesto. After a few hours it was perfect and into the fridge it went. We ate that pasta for the next 3 days weather with breakfast; lunch or dinner it was a staple and something I always looked forward to.

The boat dock and lake view, sunset 1990.

My Uncle Dusty gave me one of the most precious gifts and that was his time. My parent’s divorce truly crippled me, I was 7 when it started and I was 13 by the time it was over. Just getting away and escaping to a place where freedom was the everyday norm healed and rebuilt my soul. On the lake at sunrise with my Uncle I learned the art of tying on a hook. I learned to trust and quiet my breath, I listened to the water, birds and that special sound an early morning crisp breeze makes through the long and bending tulle reeds. I also learned how to throw up over the side of the boat the first time I had to clean my own fish; hey I was 7 years old, forgive me. I was taught to fish only what was gong to be eaten and to return the prize winning bass back into the water because if they had lived that long and gotten that big they were important to the lake and not our dinner plate. My uncle shared the lessons of classic music with the great like Benny Goodman, Glen Miller, Tommy Dorsey and Louis Armstrong. I think if there was ever one music genre I could not live with out hearing it’s the Big Band Era music and I owe that all to my Uncle. I learned how to keep score while listening to his beloved New York turned San Francisco Giants baseball games. You want to know something amazing? In his storage are binders and binders of hand written score cards for every game ever played, his father started it and he continued it- I’m not kidding every game.

1992, just in after a morning of fishing.

Dusty gave big enveloping hugs and lifted you off the ground with them, that honestly meant more to me than anything, I was loved and safe that’s all that really matters, right? Nightly slide shows were shown, I traveled from China to Brazil to Kuala Lumpur to Italy to England to Hawaii to Alaska to Argentina the Bahamas and then to the Mediterranean- I loved those nights! I was lucky, I went to his Lion Club meetings and learned the art of making good Cioppino. It was all about the fresh clams, muscles, shrimp and white fish, wine, small wooden boat oars to stir the giant pots and all the tall tale stories that went with it, those were absolutely priceless moments in my life.

Every evening 5 o’clock was cocktail time out on the deck of the house overlooking the lake there I was schooled on the proper amount of bourbon or scotch to be poured over crushed ice and then the fun part! My job was to insert the gas cartridge to the seltzer water bottle, bubbles, bubbles and more bubbles flowed in the water. For us kids we had our cocktails too- apple fizzy water. A cocktail glass filled with crushed ice, apple juice and seltzer water. I would prop my feet up on the deck to mimic my mom and sip my drink and watch the sun set on that lake along with all the days fun.

This is a post I could let go on and but that’s where my Uncle will always be with me, in my heart, my food, my stories and somewhere on a lake quietly fishing the day away. Thank you for your love, compassion and lessons Uncle Dusty and above all thank you for always welcoming me into your home every summer when I was growing up, you just let me be a kid and play the summers away. I love you and I will miss you very much.

Cheers to a full and wonderfully lived 96 years of life Uncle Dusty!

Pesto Pasta

3 big handfuls of Basil leaves, washed and leaves plucked from the stems

4 Garlic cloves

¼- ½ cup Parmesan cheese, fine graded

Salt and pepper- to taste

½ cup Toasted pine nuts

½- 1 cup Olive oil

Set your food processor up using the chopping blade. Place half the basil leaves, pine nuts, garlic and olive oil into the container. Pulse this a few times, about 30 seconds, the pesto will be chunky, not smooth yet. Add the rest of your basil leaves and then pulse for an additional 30 seconds. Look at your texture if it is too chunky or grainy pulse a few more times and if needed, add a bit more olive oil. Add in the grated cheese, salt and pepper to taste. You can add a bit of lemon juice if you would like. Continue to pulse until desired consistency is achieved. Use right away or store in the fridge in a container with a tight seal. You can also freeze pest for up to 6 months.

Post Note

In a few weeks I will be traveling back up to Sonora with my Mother, sister and my two youngest children for a visit to Old Phoenix Lake. I will be taking many, many pictures and posting them here on my blog and my Facebook page. You will see my favorite candy store in Columbia, the little stores in Jamestown then the small and quiet town of Sonora, the college where my Uncle was the first President. The quaint museum that my Aunt and Uncle donated thousands of hours to, the small pottery stores, the unique mountain book shop- everywhere I grew up you will see. I feel its the best way I can honor him, its the best way to heal a very sad heart.

July 23, 2014 By Kate DunbarCarrots right out of the garden. iPhone photo.

Back about 5 years ago, I was fed up with my horrific water bill. So… out went all the grass, roses, hedges, small decorative flowers and walkway in my front yard. In went a new fence, apple trees, lemon tree, raised bed garden boxes and decomposed granit patio and tan bark by the truck loads. Hello happy garden and happy home gardner.

2010, our front yard is being transformed.2010, our front yard is being transformed into our new garden space.

Now most of the pictures I am posting were taken with my old point and shoot or my iPhone, some of the most recent will be from my Canon 6D. Please forgive the quality.

2010, start of square foot gardening.

For the first two years I choose to follow the rules of square foot gardening and the harvest was amazing and I honestly could not believe what a 4X4 square could grow. My husband (the love) built me three 4X4 raised boxes and one 2X8 bed and then one 2X3 bed. He also insisted that two compost bins be placed in the yard too because as soon as he saw what could be grown he knew the trash company was not getting all my hard work- it was going to be put back to good use.

2010, six months after the boxes went in.

After the first two years I decided I wanted a few permanent plants in the garden such as lemon verbena, sage, rosemary, lavender, French thyme and tarragon. I’ve carefully placed these in corners or at the end of the long boxes mainly to create a good anchor and to help hold water, my husband also added a good amount of peet moss to the raised bed to help keep the moisture in and also to keep the soil temperatures up. I just went outside to take a soil temperature and one of my 4X4 boxes the soil temperature is at about 80 degrees. This is really good!

2012 raised bed garden

Every year it’s a little different in the garden but there are always tried and true vegetables: carrots, beets, kale, squash and pickling cucumbers. The one time of year my neighbors have a say in what I plant is mid winter and they always choose the french sweet pea seeds, the amazing fragrance keeps people who are walking by our home rooted to the spot, sweet pea fragrance is intoxicating and Steve, my husband built special trellises just for them in the garden. I honestly do not think my neighbors would forgive me if my yard was not spilling over with those delicate twisting and twirling tendril floral beauties.

I love harvesting vegetables and picking fruits or flowers for my friends, the above picture has been one of many hostess gifts I have brought recently to a few parties. The weather has been amazing so the come over for a BBQ invitations are steadily coming it. I’ve ordered from Ikea a few sets of bowls and I make sure to pack the bowl full of garden fresh treats. The look on the host or hostesses face when I present this garden bouquet to them is absolutely heart warming and priceless.

My daughter and her sunflowers

I posted this picture on Instagram a few weeks ago. My Daughter Paige quietly snuck giant sunflower seeds into the box that has my sweet peas, sage, lemon verbena, rosemary and chives in it. Those sunflowers grew to over 16 feet tall and the amazing amount of sunflower seeds we harvested will keep my children quite happy over the summer as they perfect the art of cracking the seeds open and spitting out the shells on make shift distance marker on the ground. If they only were not allergic to watermelon we could have a watermelon seed spitting contest. Oh well.

The garden in spring 2014

I love pic stitch, this was taken in April and I can not tell you how amazing it was to watch all of this food grow right in my front yard. On any given day I spend anywhere from 15- 30 minutes outside watering, pruning, harvesting or fertilizing the garden. My children love to help me pick the new plant seeds and figure out where to plant them in relation to what will the height be, does the new plant need sun or shade? What size will it grow to, will we need just one of these plants or could two work? All I know is this my children know where their food comes from and they have a say in it, what parent can have a issue with that?

Take a look at your yard a really good and honest look. Do you have the ability to put a few boxes in or maybe a few containers for vegetables or fruit trees? If you do I can guarantee it will be one of the best investments you could make. Fresh grown food, a welcome addition in water conservation (getting rid of that water sucking grass) a food source for butterflies, bees and birds too. I can not wait to take out a good part of our backyard grass and put more raised beds in it. I hope you enjoyed the look into my other kitchen, my outdoor kitchen and if you have a question or would like to share your transformed yards please do. Have a great week.

My husband has a folder in his mind titled “Kate comfort food.” My red beans recipe is in the top 10, maybe top five. Simple yet flavorful food can bring comfort to a stress filled day or warmth on a cold night. Yes, it does get cold in Southern California- I promise. I have discovered a secret in the preparation and cooking process of red beans, let’s say it lessens the tummy issues and I’ll leave it at that. The secret is the overnight soaking water and the first boil. It is nontraditional-but it works ** see recipe.

My earliest memories of red beans were with my Poppa, Charles Mathson Slaton he was born in Macon, Georgia in 1918 truly an amazing and talented man who I miss dearly. We would go to a small diner where he would order us a bowl of RBR with a side of cornbread. I would get this giggle and laugh going and then my mouth would start puckering due to the heat of the Andouille sausage_ it’s flavorful spices and smoke honestly was and still is my favorite part.

Charles “Chuck” Slaton, my Grandfather.

The vegetables in this dish are not many- simply green bell pepper, onion and celery-always referred to as-the Trinity. Poppa would say “Bug” (ref #1) the way to a man’s heart is in these three here vegetables and he pulled a few of them out of the bowl and onto a plate: green bell pepper, onion and celery. “If you use these in your food you will find a good man.” Guess what, in all my years of making red beans I never made them for someone that I was dating, I have only made them for my husband. Poppa was correct.

The first time I made my red beans and rice for my soon-to-be husband he was going through particularly tough time. He had just lost his father to cancer; and, he was back from his deployment in Iraq. Steve was in a lost spot and honestly I did not know what to do. Then I remembered feeding helps those who need comfort. Off to the store I went to get: smoked ham hocks, spicy sausage, red beans and the trinity. Overnight the beans soaked becoming plump and full, in the morning out came my two tried-and-true, battered and banged up orange colored Le Creuset French Oven. The first French oven had the beans simmering away,the second was used to sauté the remaining ingredients. The sweet smell of onion, thyme, bay leaf and garlic started to wrap their fragrant hands around him-coaxing him to ask what was I making. “It’s red beans, it’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

Soon the smoky ham hocks were added and the spicy sausage, by then Steve had moved into the kitchen with me, watching what I was doing quietly sitting there reading his book being comforted by the smells of simple, good food. The beans were added to the sautéed vegetables along with chicken stock, the lid was placed on and the French oven then I slid it to a back burner for its low heat simmer.The pot for the rice was on the stove gently bubbling away. Next the oven was set to 400°F; and, my 60 + year-old Lodge cast-iron 10″ inch skillet was placed in that oven to heat up with a good tablespoon of bacon drippings. Just when the cast iron and bacon fat was good and hot I took it out of the oven and poured my sweet cornbread batter into the pan, its like a sizzling kiss of love that hot bacon fat makes the perfect crisp outer crust to any corn bread recipe.

It’s now 10 years later and I look back on that dinner, I remember seeing a moment of peace, comfort and healing. I don’t know why but somewhere in the soaking, boiling, simmering, stirring and tending to, love was so gently infused into that meal. Still to this day his face softens, his shoulders relax and his smile returns whenever he smells my red beans slowly cooking away on our stove.I hope you find comfort in this recipe I also hope you giggle a bit at the spice it has too.

Cheers!

Poppa’s Red Beans

Ingredients

1lb dried red kidney beans

1 large yellow onion, chopped

1 large green bell pepper, chopped

5 cloves of garlic crushed

2 ribs of celery, chopped

2 medium sized ham hocks

1- 1 ½ pounds Andouille sausage, cut into rounds

3 sprigs fresh thyme or 1 tsp dried thyme

2 bay leaves

2 cups stock (chicken, pork or vegetable)

4 cups water

Creole seasoning to taste

salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons grape seed oil

1 tsp baking soda *

Instructions

Sort and rinse your kidney beans then add to a large pot or bowl, fill with enough cool water to have at least 2” space between the beans and the top line of the water. * tummy helper #1 add 1 teaspoon of baking soda to the water mix around and leave to soak overnight. At least 12 hours.

After overnight soak drain and rinse the beans very well. Place beans in a French oven or large pot and cover with cool water. Place the pot on the stove and use a low flame to simmer the beans. About 1 hour.

While the beans are half way through their simmer in your second pot add your oil and heat the pot on medium. When the oil glistens or has that heat ripple look, sauté the onions and garlic until soft and translucent. Add the celery and bell pepper, about about 5 minutes then add the thyme, bay leaves, ham hocks, sausage 4 cups water and 2 cups stock. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to simmer.

Drain your tender beans and rinse very well * secret #2. Add beans to the simmering pot and slowly cook for 2 to 3 hours. At the 2-hour mark check the beans to see if they are soft and creamy then taste, add your creole seasoning and any salt and pepper that is needed.

Serve over a bowl of light and fluffy white rice and enjoy or simply on their own.

Reference #1 my full name is Kathleen but I was called Katie as a young girl and “Katie Bug” was my nickname; but, my Poppa called me bug for short.

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Welcome To My Blog!

Bliss for me is time spent in the kitchen. This blog was created to share my explorations of food, family and the world. Join me as I feed my curiosity and my family. Enjoy!

Why is it called the Curious Kitchen?

My kitchen is my passion but it is also my school. I study, I explore, I develop, I grow. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, but it fuels my creativity. So much of history took place over meals, in kitchens and I feel that in my own life. I have come to realize that food is what connects us all. I want to know more and I want to share what I have learned so far.